


And the Big Bad Wolf

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Dark, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Implied Mind Control, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane has nothing to fear in the forest.</p><p>The girl in the white fur dress is not so sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Big Bad Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Because there is no way on earth to look at the end of Act 6 Act 5 and not see Little Red Riding Hood references.

"Another wolf attack last night," the watchman says as he hands a silver coin across the counter. "Poor Mister White, the bookseller, snatched out the window right in front of his wife. I followed the trail but all that we found to bury was his head, clawed clean off. Terrible things, just terrible. Something must be done."

Jane wraps a red cloth around the thirteen poppyseed rolls and sets the bundle neatly into her customer's basket. "Indeed."

"The mayor has called a town meeting this afternoon," the watchman continues. "I think we should hire a proper hunter, not these ragtag pretenders who keep coming to try their luck. Bring the wolf to bay, make him taste justice -- an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth until all our dead are avenged."

"As you say," Jane murmurs.

"Will you be at the meeting?" the watchman asks.

Jane shakes her head and follows him to the door of her bakery, turns the sign in the window. "I will be with my grandmother," she says.

"Be careful in the woods," the watchman tells her. "You never know where a monster might lurk."

Jane locks the door behind him.

\-----

She has nothing to fear in the forest.

\-----

"Hello, where are you going?" asks the girl in the white fur dress, peering down from the branch of a ghost-pale birch. The trees raise their arms over grass and the corpses of fallen pines and the wind moans mournful through the leaves.

"To visit my grandmother," Jane says, holding up her basket with its red cloth.

"Oh, that's nice. Do you have any friends?" asks the girl in the white fur dress, her green eyes wide and curious behind the mask of her black hair.

Jane shakes her head. "No, I never have."

"I used to have friends," says the girl in the white fur dress. "Three of them, one for the air, one for the light, and one for the arrow of time. We went on a quest. But the shadows are dark and deep even in midsummer and there's a witch in the heart of the wood. I lost them countless yesterdays ago. I can't even remember their names."

She swings her legs as she speaks, pale skin flashing in and out of dappled shade. Her feet are bare and black with dirt and leaves.

"At least you had friends once," Jane says. She flips the red hood off her head to lie smooth along her back, takes another step along the path.

"Aren't I your friend?" asks the girl in the white fur dress.

"Not yet," Jane says.

The girl in the white fur dress leaps down from the birch tree's ghost-white branch and laughs. "I can work with that."

\-----

Jane shares lunch with her grandmother.

\-----

"Another wolf attack last night," the muralist says as she hands a silver coin across the counter. "Poor Mister Black, the watchman, torn to bits in the market square. I don't know how the wolf gets over the wall, and now who will keep us safe at night? Something must be done."

Jane folds a red cloth over the cherry pie and sets the bundle neatly into her customer's box. "Indeed."

"The mayor has posted a bounty," the muralist continues, "and sent messengers to all corners of the land in search of a hero. But we've done that before, and look what became of the poor souls who answered the call. Why, your own friends--"

She trails off.

"As you say," Jane murmurs.

"I'm glad for your sake that you still have your grandmother," the muralist says.

Jane shrugs and follows her to the door of her bakery, turns the sign in the window. "I will give her your good wishes," she says.

"Be careful in the woods," the muralist tells her. "You never know when a monster might strike."

Jane locks the door behind her.

\-----

She has nothing to fear in the forest.

\-----

"Hello, where are you going?" asks the girl in the white fur dress, sitting up in the middle of a raspberry thicket. The bushes grow tangled and wild amid the charred bones of past fires and the sun beats down unhindered by trees.

"To visit my grandmother," Jane says, holding up her basket with its red cloth.

"Oh, that's nice. Do you believe in ghosts?" asks the girl in the white fur dress, scrunching up her nose and smiling as if to say she knows it's a silly question.

Jane shakes her head. "No, I've never seen or heard any proof."

"I used to think like that," says the girl in the white fur dress. "But this forest is very strange. I don't think time runs properly here, and I hear screams echo through the night. Sometimes there are fingers running through my mind like sticky cobwebs, wrapping me up tight to suck out my thoughts. Have you ever felt like that?"

She plucks raspberries as she speaks, fingers nimble among the thorns. Juice runs like blood across her wrists. When she bites down, her lips are stained with red.

"Perhaps you should come into town at night. A wolf lives in the wood," Jane says. She brushes aside a curious wasp and takes a step closer to the edge of the path.

"The watchman won't let me through the gates, but thanks for thinking of me," says the girl in the white fur dress. "Does this mean we're friends?" Her green eyes are wide and hopeful.

"Not yet," Jane says.

The girl in the white fur dress holds out her cupped hands, filled with blood-red berries. "Take some: a gift for a gift. It's a good first step."

Jane reaches across the tangle of thorns and plucks a single berry from the pile. The juice slides crimson down her throat.

\-----

Jane shares lunch with her grandmother.

\-----

"Another wolf attack last night," the mayor says as he hands a silver coin across the counter. "Poor Miss Paint, the muralist, shoved into her own kitchen fire and burnt alive while the beast ripped her legs to shreds. But I received a letter today! A great warrior is coming to our town."

Jane tucks a red cloth around the thirteen lime peel muffins and sets the bundle neatly into her customer's basket. "Indeed."

"She has fought many monsters in her day -- giants, vampires, gremlins, and more," the mayor continues. "Surely a wolf will be no trouble for such a hero! And then our town will be safe once more to bask in the light of freedom and democracy. There will be no more need for curfews and restrictive laws."

"As you say," Jane murmurs.

"It will do your heart good to see our town the way it used to be, before the wolf," the mayor says.

Jane nods and follows him to the door of her bakery, turns the sign in the window. "My grandmother says the town was very rich. I'm sure business will improve once people feel safe again."

"Be careful in the woods," the mayor tells her. "You never know how a monster might kill."

Jane locks the door behind him.

\-----

She has nothing to fear in the forest.

\-----

"Hello, where are you going?" asks the girl in the white fur dress, wading out of the shallow lake. Maples line the shores; they will turn scarlet come autumn, their reflections like blood and fire in the waves. For now the water shines green and clear, undisturbed by fish.

"To visit my grandmother," Jane says, holding up her basket with its red cloth.

"Oh, that's nice. Do you know how to fight?" asks the girl in the white fur dress. She drags a moss-slick branch out of the water and grips it like a sword, slices the air with a sable blur.

Jane shakes her head. "No, I never learned."

"That's a shame. Everyone should know how to defend herself," says the girl in the white fur dress. "The world's an amazing place, but amazing isn't the same as safe, and what if you wanted to have an adventure someday? Witches don't melt just from water or lack of belief no matter what they want you to think. The forest only believes in blood. That's why it's home to the wolf."

She stirs the lake as she speaks, spinning whirlpools and waves that unravel and dash themselves to nothing upon the sandy shore. The moss on her blackened branch gleams emerald in the damp.

"What do you believe in?" Jane asks, toeing the very edge of the path to crouch at the water's edge. She trails her fingertips in the sand, rubs the white grains between her thumbs.

"I don't know. I used to believe in my friends. Then I believed in ghosts. I don't think I believe in blood quite yet, but the forest has nothing but time. What about you?" asks the girl in the white fur dress.

"I believe in my grandmother," Jane says. "I'd like to believe in a friend."

"We could try believing in each other," says the girl in the white fur dress. Her green eyes are wide and earnest.

"Maybe in time," Jane says.

She dips her hand beneath the water, watches it reflect the green of leaves and the white of sand. She cups her hands and drinks.

The girl in the white fur dress smiles.

\-----

Jane shares lunch with her grandmother.

\-----

"Another wolf attack last night," the stranger says as she hands a silver coin across the counter. "Poor Mister Green, the mayor, bitten clean in half and his guts draped halfway across the town. It's a shame I didn't arrive sooner. I would have liked to meet him."

Jane wraps a red cloth around the hot cross bun and sets the bundle neatly into her customer's hand. "Indeed."

"It speaks ill of my good intentions that I came too late to save the man who hired me," the stranger continues. "Tell me, what do you know of previous attempts to kill or capture the wolf? The townspeople tell me you came here with your friends but only you survived. What do you recall of the fight?"

"There was no fight," Jane murmurs. "I have no friends. I came to be close to my grandmother. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Are you certain?" the stranger asks, her tired eyes black and hard in her pale face. "I understand it may hurt to remember your loss, but any hunter with honor would do her best to help another. We are the defense of civilization, the light against the dark."

"There is nothing to remember," Jane says. "Please excuse me. I have to close the shop; my grandmother expects me for lunch."

"I'm sorry. A simple mistake," the stranger says.

Jane hums and follows her to the door of her bakery, turns the sign in the window. "Perhaps I arrived on the same day as a hunter. I wish you luck."

"Be careful in the woods," the stranger tells her. "You never know what a monster might plan, or who might be watching."

Jane locks the door behind her.

\-----

She has nothing to fear in the forest.

\-----

"Hello, where are you going?" asks the girl in the white fur dress, leaping down from the polished rail of the bridge. The stream bubbles indifferently underneath, splashing hollow echoes from the planks above. Across the water a cottage stands on tidy, clean-swept ground, circled by a white picket fence. Birdcages hang from the posts, astir with ivory feathers.

"To visit my grandmother," Jane says, holding up her basket with its red cloth.

"Oh, that's nice. Does she live in that house?" asks the girl in the white fur dress, pointing a ragged nail behind herself toward the cottage and its fence.

Jane nods. "Yes, that's where she lives."

"I thought it might be," says the girl in the white fur dress. "The path only exists while you walk it, but I tracked you with raspberries and water and marked the trail with my blood. This is where it leads. The wolf marks lead here too. This is the witch's lair, and the wolf is her hound at heel."

She stalks forward as she speaks, each blackened foot placed precisely on the path. But for her there is no path, no smooth way through the woods; twigs and thorns rise up to pierce her, leaves and limbs bend down to bind her, and the wind carries the distant sound of howling to Jane's ears.

"No," Jane says. "No."

"Yes. She is. And she's not your grandmother either," says the girl in the white fur dress. "Be my friend. Believe in me. Leave the path."

She holds her hands out, pleading.

Jane looks down at her basket, the red cloth and the white bread underneath, baked fresh for her grandmother. Her grandmother who is all she has in the world. She has never had friends. She has never had a purpose. She has never even had fear.

Surely nobody's world should be that small, she thinks.

Jane steps off the path and looks at the bridge. The rails are not polished; they are made of splinters and rot. She looks at the cottage. The ground is not swept clean; it is stained with blood and offal. She looks at the fence. It is made of spikes and thorns, the cages large enough to nearly touch the ground, and filled with naught but bones.

"Come with me," says the girl in the white fur dress.

Jane takes her hand.

Across the water, the cottage door opens. Cold fingers like cobwebs, like the sunless depth of the sea, like poison thorns, run furrows through Jane's mind. Beside her, the girl in the white fur dress stands still as stone.

"Come here, girls," Jane's grandmother says. "Come have lunch with me. I found a new wolf today, a lovely white bitch to match my black hound, and look! Now I have a new granddaughter too. Come inside, girls. We have work to do."

\-----

Jane and Jade share lunch with their grandmother. Two wolves spar for scraps underneath the table.

In the evening they go home, holding hands as they walk along the path.

They have nothing to fear in the forest.


End file.
